Psycho Devils: Aran’s Story Book 2 (Cruel Shifterverse 5)
Psycho Devils: Chapter 13

The Legionnaire Games: Day 22, hour 19

Sitting on my bed, I tugged at the brush that was tangled in my hair. I yelped as a knot yanked against my scalp.

I hated pain.

Loathed it.

It was not my thing, and I was sick and tired of constantly experiencing it. Could one stupid thing in my life maybe not suck?

Each day last week I’d woken up and said my morning affirmation: “I am the victim.”

The week had felt like it lasted a million painful years, but somehow it had all blinked by.

The first competition was tomorrow.

My life was a cycle of misery.

All I did was train, panic, eat, train, panic, avoid Sari’s hateful gaze at meals, panic, try to sleep, smoke, maladaptive daydream about a hot fictional man loving me, eat, panic, and hang out with misogynists all day. Repeat.

When I tried to focus on any individual day, I could barely remember the details.

It was all a hazy blur.

Like a bad trip.

I wasn’t ready for the psychological torment to begin tomorrow, because I was already tortured. Not to be dramatic.

Huffing with my arms burning (why was brushing your hair literally harder than hauling a granite slab?), I repositioned myself on my bed to get better leverage and pulled harder. Pain pinched my scalp, but the brush didn’t move. My stupid curls were driving me wild.

I lived in hell.

Shadows from the fireplace refracted eerily across the gothic architecture. The heavy curtains had been drawn, and they blocked out the eclipse’s red haze.

The rest of my legion snored softly, and besides the occasional sound of bedding rustling, the room was quiet.

Everyone slept peacefully.

Not relatable.

After ten minutes of fighting with my stupid brush, I yanked out a tangle of curls in defeat. This was what I got for trying to practice self-care. I got scalped.

I snarled at the brush and slammed it against my overly plush mattress.

The damn thing was like sleeping on a cloud. It was horrible.

I preferred to sleep spread-eagle on my stomach, and I swore the thing was giving me back pain.

Sure, the enchanted “WHORE” carved into my flesh and random surgical lines that Sadie said were parallel to my spine were likely contributing to the pain, but the mattress was still not helping.

Lately nothing was.

The drugs had lost their efficacy, and I couldn’t blame my problems on a made-up monster in my head. Dissociating wasn’t fun when you knew you were just pretending.

I couldn’t even pretend that I wanted to pretend.

Shadowy walls collapsed around me.

A random chill made shivers crawl down my spine, so I pulled myself out of bed and lay in front of the large hearth with my blankets wrapped around me.

The flames warmed my cold skin as they screeched obscenities at me.

As I lay on the ornate carpet in front of the fire, the pounding in my temples intensified.

“Screw you,” I whispered as the fire screamed.

I reached my fingers toward it. For a second, a strange tingling zapped between my shoulders.

Whoosh.

The fire disappeared, and darkness surrounded me. Embers glowed dimly.

I stared down at my shadowy hand with no clue what I’d done.

Shivering from the cold, I regretted my life choices. At least the darkness was comforting and my head had stopped pounding.

I lay on the floor wrapped up in my blanket cocoon.

The hard surface grounded me.

Closing my eyes, I enjoyed the quiet darkness because it was all going to be okay.

Whoosh.

Flames reappeared in the hearth, and they screamed even louder than before. I didn’t need to speak fire to know they were shrieking obscenities at me.

Shadows expanded across the walls.

Jumped.

Taunted.

Nothing was okay.

I slapped both hands over my mouth, leaned forward, and screamed. Curling into a fetal position, I shoved my knuckles against my teeth to muffle the sound. The fire was warm, but I convulsed with shivers.

Pulling the blankets tighter, I squeezed my eyes shut.

Tasted copper as I silently screamed.

Wished I could disappear.

“Sweetheart.” A tinkling, lyrical voice made me jump. “Are you okay?”

I dragged myself out of my blanket fort and removed the fist from my mouth. The endearment sent streaks of agony across my spine.

Orion was sitting up in bed with a concerned expression on his face.

Scorpius and Malum were curled beneath him, snoring.

The golden devil sat up from the pile of his mates with a bemused expression. Blond hair messy, red lips swollen, he was shirtless with gray sweatpants hanging low off his hips. His skin gleamed like gold metal as it pulled across his perfect Adonis belt.

He was indecent.

I whispered, “Don’t call me that.” My voice was rough from screaming.

“Sorry,” Orion mouthed, and he held up his hands like he was talking to a wild animal. “Are you okay, baby?” He leaned forward with his hands extended like he wanted me to climb into his arms.

His words and body language seemed sweet and caring.

There was just one problem.

They didn’t match his eyes.

Uptilted warm brown eyes stared at me without blinking, and his gaze was penetrating. Harsh like a predator’s.

I couldn’t explain it, but there was a feeling in my gut that wouldn’t go away. It had started after he’d kissed me like he wanted to consume me.

He’d whispered dark, possessive words.

I clamped my lips together to stop my teeth from chattering as another shiver made me convulse.

Something about Orion made me nervous.

Like really nervous.

Mentally, I was a slut. Physically, I was terrified of intimacy. Spiritually, I didn’t like men.

I was confused.

He kept his arms out, and his lush lips mouthed, “Sweetheart, why are you cold?” Blonde hair gleamed silky in the firelight and highlighted the golden shade of his skin.

I shook my head at him.

Too cold to argue.

I blinked.

Orion was kneeling in front of me. When had he climbed out of his bed?

He gently pulled open my arms.

I blinked.

I was pressed against a warm male chest, and arms were tight around me. Orion was sprawled on the carpet with me and my blanket cocoon tucked against him.

Fingers played with my curls.

I closed my eyes.

Snuggled deeper into the warmth and inhaled chocolate and raspberries. My mouth ached with the urge to bite the muscular golden chest I was resting against.

Instead of tasting him, I dipped my head lower so he couldn’t see my face and whispered, “I know you’re not really super sweet and nice.”

Images played in my mind: him snapping a man’s neck, fighting ungodly like a machine, holding my legs while his mates pushed me under the water in the bathhouse, whispering I was his toy after he kissed me.

I might act stupid, but I wasn’t dumb.

Warm muscles went hard as steel beneath me, and a long moment passed, but Orion didn’t dispute what I’d said.

Not that I’d thought he would.

He’d watched his mates force-feed me and choke me. He’d watched them punch me. Repeatedly. They called me their slave, and he said nothing.

You couldn’t be a bystander and still play the sweet hero.

It didn’t work that way.

His transgressions were piling up.

I shivered as I stared into his eyes with long dark lashes. He was so pretty that it almost hurt to look at him.

Even his beauty was scary.

Lately, I couldn’t stop thinking about how he’d told me he wanted me to be his toy. There were red flags, and then there were giant glowing signs that said “beware, this man is not good for you.”

Lush lips traced against my forehead.

I ignored the streaks of agonizing pain that exploded across my back.

Lips trailed gently across my eyelids.

Callused fingers tipped my chin, so I stared up into smoldering brown eyes.

His mouth pressed softly against mine.

A featherlight touch.

Orion breathed into my lips, “No, sweetheart, I’m not nice.”

I didn’t pull away and slap him across the face like I should have. I tipped my head back further and greedily pressed against him.

It made sense.

It was time to stop being self-aware, whatever I did was none of my business.

Unlike on the dance floor, Orion didn’t kiss me like he was trying to consume me. His lips were painstakingly gentle like he was trying to make a point. Like he was trying to show me he could be the good guy.

I tasted the lie.

“Who are you really?” I asked midkiss, then swallowed a moan as his tongue dragged across my mine.

Instead of explaining himself, Orion whispered, “I think you already know,” as he continued to melt my brain.

His cryptic words made my gut twist with premonition.

Because I did know, and I didn’t like it. Although, maybe I did? I couldn’t remember why I was supposed to avoid the villain.

Orion’s gentle fingers tightened, and he squeezed my chin so I couldn’t yank my head out of his gasp.

The sweet kiss turned ravenous. Angry.

Pleasure swirled with pain.

I wrenched my head out of his grip and turned my head to the side while I gasped for air. My breathing was uncomfortably loud in the quiet room. Even the flames had stopped screaming. The hearth crackled and popped beside us.

Loosening my grip on the tangle of blankets surrounding us, I scooted further away from Orion.

With another shaky breath, I glanced over at the quiet king.

His pretty features were sharp as glass, and Orion stared at me without blinking.

“That was a mistake,” I whispered. My gaze dropped to his glistening lips, and my voice sounded unsure as I asked, “Right?”

He moved in a blur.

Fingers were tangled in my curls, and I was yanked forward aggressively.

Orion smashed my face back against his.

Our teeth clicked together.

This time, he didn’t kiss nicely; he pressed his lips against mine with fevered intensity.

I blinked and found myself on my back in front of the fire with Orion pressed against me, pinning me to the ground.

Pleasure made my head swirl.

Pain made my back burn.

His hips ground against mine, creating the most delicious frictions.

For a long second, I lay still and enjoyed the overwhelming sensations. My head spun like I’d drunk a bottle of demon brew.

The haziness was worse than it had ever been.

I blinked.

Orion hovered on top of me and mouthed, “Sweetheart, my brothers may call you their slave.” He ground his hardness against my core with so much force that I saw stars. “But we both know who you belonged to first.”

Pain streaked down my back like I’d been shot.

Great. I was also a pervert.

I closed my eyes, then opened them.

“Enough,” I whispered between gasps as I tried to push him back.

His dark eyes were glazed with lust, and he kissed me harder.

I let him slam me back against the carpet.

Pretended his punishing kiss and the movement of his hips weren’t sending me close to catatonic pain.

I pretended I was a normal woman.

He was a normal man.

He gripped my ass as he pushed his hard length against me like he was trying to fuck me through our clothes.

“Mine,” he whispered as his tongue slammed deeper into my mouth.

Bursts of pain made me twitch.

“No.” I gasped. “Enough.”

He tangled his hands in my curls and pulled my head back so he could nip along my neck. His teeth grazed across my sensitive skin, then his lips sucked like he was trying to mark me. Permanently.

My vision went glassy.

The pleasure was so intense that the pain became unimaginable.

I took a deep breath.

Then lashed forward and slammed the heel of my palm into his throat. I jabbed him in the kidneys and pushed him off me.

I leaped to my feet and pulled the blankets around me like a cape as I stared down at his prone form.

He was disturbingly pretty, like a god of lust.

I fisted my hands.

For a long second, Orion lay on the ground and stared up at me. He smirked and purposefully didn’t move. Spread his legs wantonly and lifted his hips.

The invitation was clear.

“Get up,” I said forcefully like I wasn’t seconds away from collapsing.

The pleasure and pain were gone, and I was left with a horrible empty sensation.

I felt like a shell of myself.

Like someone else was speaking.

Orion smoothly got to his feet and pulled himself back to his full height. He had a few inches on me, and he used it.

“If you want there to be anything between us”—I gestured between us—“then you’re going to make yourself useful.”

Orion stared down at me silently. He didn’t blink.

I sighed, picked the brush off the floor where I’d thrown it, and dragged my fingers through my stupid curls as I asked, “Do you have any scissors?”

He frowned. “Why?”

“Because I need to cut off this rat’s nest.” I grabbed at my curls and pulled them forward to show how tangled they’d gotten. Trying to brush it had made it ten times worse.

Whenever I cut my hair it grew back immediately, but maybe it would grow back untangled.

Work smarter not harder.

I focused on my annoyance with my hair instead of the swollen state of Orion’s lips.

Mine throbbed.

I wanted to push him back onto the floor and impale myself on him. What was the worst that could happen? Death.

Maybe you should do it.

Orion’s features hardened, and he said, “No, you aren’t.” It was the loudest I’d heard him speak, and the lyrical sound sent a shiver down my spine. He looked angry.

It wrenched me out of my thoughts.

What was he freaking out about?

Bedding rustled behind Orion, and I prayed to the sun god that it wasn’t what I thought it was.

“What’s going on?” Malum asked as he rubbed at his face and sat up, his naked torso on glorious display.

I barely noticed that his dark-bronze skin gave him the appearance of one of the ancient statues that guarded the famed Library of Alexandria.

“Arabella’s trying to cut her hair off,” Orion whispered.

Malum shook his head and said, “No, she’s not.” Scarlet flames danced across his buzz cut in an imitation of his crown.

“I’ll do whatever I want with it, since it’s my hair,” I whispered loudly while glancing over at John to make sure he was still asleep. My friend needed his rest before the competition tomorrow.

I opened my mouth to explain that my hair would just grow back but smacked it shut. It was too fun riling them up.

If I was honest with myself, it was all I had to live for lately.

Hatred gave me energy.

When John didn’t move, I whispered louder at Malum, “Maybe I’ll get a buzz cut like you. I’d definitely pull it off better.”

“Touch a strand on your head and I’ll let Scorpius punish you,” Malum snarled. “You’re our slave, which means it’s not your hair; it’s our hair. We own you.”

Scorpius sat up in the bed and smirked, and the expression was pure evil.

Glad everyone was awake.

Not.

Orion’s posture was nonthreatening compared to his mates’, but he didn’t open his mouth to dispute Malum.

I was overwhelmed with relief that I’d stopped whatever was happening between us.

Orion didn’t stand up for me to his mates.

He wasn’t on my side.

Without thinking, I chucked my hairbrush across the room, and it smacked satisfyingly against Malum’s hard chest and fell to the bed.

A red welt immediately appeared on his large pectoral muscle. He had bigger tits than I did.

There was a long moment where I debated the merits of buying him a bra and gifting it to him.

He must have read my mind.

Malum was across the room so quickly that I didn’t see him move.

My head was wrenched backward as fingers tangled in my hair and held my neck to the side at a painful angle. He snarled, “You better watch yourself. Bitch.”

I spat in his face, and a big goop of saliva slid down his cheek.

I smiled. “You’ve got something on your face.”

The flames leaped higher on Malum’s skull as he yanked my head downward with such force that I fell to my knees.

He towered above me, an amalgamation of harsh features, tattoos, bulging muscles, and rage. A dark god above his subject. Orion stood next to him and watched with a strange expression.

Goose bumps pebbled my skin.

Malum smiled, and it was the meanest face I’d ever seen a person make.

I held his gaze with mine. “Let me go, or I’ll destroy you.”

Malum slowly wiped the spit off his face and leaned forward.

Rich scents overwhelmed my senses as he pressed his face beside mine. He turned his head, and his stubble scratched harshly against my sensitive neck.

Unlike his mate, he didn’t smell sweet. He reeked of tobacco and whiskey.

Pain scoured my back.

Orion ran his fingers across my forehead.

White streaks blurred my vision.

Malum’s breath was hot against the shell of my ear. “Try to hurt me and I’ll ruin you so thoroughly that you won’t remember your own name.” His rough voice rasped through me like lava.

Pleasure and pain streaked across my senses with such fervor that I could only do one thing.

I stood up and raised my knee.

Slammed it into his balls.

Then I slammed it again.

And again.

Malum grunted in pain, and I used the distraction to rip away from him.

I scoffed down at him. “You’re an ass.” Then I hacked another loogie onto his face and flipped my hair.

Dominance asserted. Check.

Straightening my sweatshirt, I shoved my pipe between my lips, took a long drag, and blew out Horse. The incorporeal crow landed on my shoulder.

Together we stared down at the pathetic devil moaning at our feet.

“What’s going on?” John asked sleepily from across the room as he rubbed at his eyes.

“I’m just asserting that I’m the alpha over Malum,” I said calmly.

Devils and fae weren’t separated into alphas, betas, and omegas like shifters, but we all knew I’d be an alpha if I were a shifter.

“Go back to sleep,” I said to John.

He gave me a sleepy thumbs-up. “Good for you.” He pressed the pillow over his head and resumed snoring.

Malum mumbled something about a “motherfucking brat who needed to learn her place,” but the effect was ruined because he remained in the fetal position, cupping his balls like a common degenerate.

I stared down at him and whispered, “Mitch.”

His expression darkened and I held myself back from clapping.

Orion arched his brow as he stared at me, but he didn’t move to help his mate. He licked his lip as he looked between the two of us like he was imagining something sordid.

More goose bumps broke out across my arms.

What do you really know about these men?

Scorpius untangled himself from the bed and stalked across the room like a panther, his seven-foot frame moving with a lazy grace.

“You think you can just act without consequences?” he sneered softly. “Such an idiot.”

I ducked as he grabbed at me, but somehow the blind king anticipated my movement, and his long arm wrapped around my throat.

I tried futilely to break his hold. His long fingers were like steel.

“Do you have a neck fetish or something?” I asked through gritted teeth because lately it seemed like the blind devil’s hands were always around my throat.

“You want to replace out?” Scorpius asked darkly as his nails dug into my sensitive skin.

The pain that streaked down my spine answered the question for me.

A part of me did.

I needed immediate professional help.